Scenes from a Most Unusual Family
by alcimines
Summary: Set in an AU where Logan, Ororo, Daken, and Laura are family. Mostly this is about the kids becoming a part of the family.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: this is sort of a sequel to "Everything Important". Actually, it's more like a prequel and a during-the-middle-of-quel. I wrote this because Lychee Loving keeps dropping hints that she wants to see more. Also a talented fan artist named ladynorthstar (check out her tumblr page) did some art for her version of this AU that got me thinking. I shamelessly stole at least one of her ideas._

SCENES FROM A MOST UNUSUAL FAMILY

"You're not my mom," were the first words that Daken said to Ororo. He was scowling so hard that his eyebrows formed a savage and uncompromising 'V'.

It was a creditable performance for a five year old boy.

"I know," was Ororo's calm reply.

Daken - so utterly sure that he was going to get a stronger response - blinked in surprise. Logan, lurking in the background, tried to hide his smile. His son had no idea what he was getting into...

Then Ororo crouched down and carefully ran a hand through Daken's Mohawk. It wasn't a haircut. It was part-and-parcel of Daken's mutation.

Daken frowned at the familiarity, but didn't otherwise object. Some part of his hind-brain was suggesting that maybe he shouldn't get too pushy with this particular woman.

"I had hair like this once," Ororo said thoughtfully.

Daken became even more surprised. So surprised that he forgot to be truculent - which was a fairly rare phenomenon.

"Really?" he said as he studied Ororo's glorious waterfall of lustrous white hair.

"Really," Ororo said as she got to her feet. "By the way, do you prefer your hot chocolate with or without marshmallows?"

"Uhm..." Daken hesitated. He didn't want to admit that he didn't have a clue what a marshmallow was.

"I hate marshmallows," Logan interjected calmly.

"Lots of marshmallows," Daken said with complete certainty, refusing to look in Logan's direction.

A few minutes later, Daken was sure that he'd found the food of the gods. He was so happy that at first he didn't notice that Logan's hot chocolate also had marshmallows in it. Eventually, he did notice. That was when Daken first faced the horrifying possibility that there might be people in the world actually smart enough to fool him. And he was living with two of them.

* * *

><p><em>A Month Later...<em>

"Ororo showed me this," Daken said, just before he handed Logan a photograph.

Logan took the picture and examined it. Then he smiled. The photo was a little worn around the edges, but it showed Kurt, Logan, and Ororo. Ororo was standing between Kurt and Logan - she was noticeably taller than both men - and they had their arms around each other. Ororo had her Mohawk and was dressed in a rakishly punk set of black leather.

Logan nodded as he tried to suppress a cherished memory of undressing Ororo from the outfit she was wearing in the picture.

In recent years, Ororo's dress style had become more conservative. Now, she tended towards long, colorful, African-style skirts; usually with a plain white blouse. Expressive jewelry that ranged from simple and inexpensive to exotic and very expensive often completed her outfit.

Come to think of it, Logan liked undressing her out of that as well.

Well... when you got down to it, Logan just really liked to undress Ororo.

"I like her hair," Daken said quietly.

"You've got good taste," Logan replied as he handed the photograph back to Daken.

"When was that?" Daken asked.

"A long time ago," Logan answered. "Ororo and I were full-blown X-Men in those days. That picture was taken just after a tangle with the Brood."

Daken frowned at the unfamiliar word. "The what?"

"The Brood. Alien critters. Sort of like vicious bugs, but a lot bigger. They're the scourge of whatever part of the galaxy they turn up in. And they were about to move into our neighborhood."

"You fought them?" Daken said interestedly.

"Yep."

"Will I fight them someday? I mean... if they come back?"

Something clenched in Logan's stomach as he looked at his son's face.

"That's a decision you can make when you get older," Logan finally responded.

Daken seemed to pick up on Logan's mood. He nodded soberly, but said nothing else.

It was the most civilized conversation the two of them had ever had.

* * *

><p><em>A Half-Hour Later...<em>

"Ororo?" Daken said quietly.

Ororo was unloading some groceries from the truck. Daken was giving her a hand. Logan was getting his gear together - he had to go to work.

"Yes, Dak?" Ororo asked distractedly.

"I was talking to Dad about something. And I think I said something that bothered him."

Ororo put a bag on one of the porch chairs. "What were you talking about?"

"Fighting the Brood. Dad said you and he and Uncle Kurt did that once."

Ororo winced and then shook her head. "Actually we did that more than once."

"I asked Dad if I would fight the Brood someday."

Ororo stopped, frozen in mid-motion. Daken recognized the look that was now in her eyes. It had been in his father's eyes just a little while ago.

Suddenly concerned, Daken took Ororo's hands in his own and asked. "Mom, what's wrong?"

Ororo came back to Earth. Then she pulled Daken to her and held him very close.

"We do not want you to ever fight something like the Brood," Ororo finally said very tensely, "but someday there might not be a choice."

Daken hugged Ororo back. Hard.

"It's okay, Mom," he said - almost desperately. "It's okay. It was just a question."

Ororo let go of Daken and then wiped her eyes. "Help me get the groceries inside. Your father has to go to work."

It took everyone a while to realize that Daken had finally started calling Ororo "Mom".

* * *

><p><em>Two Years Later...<em>

"Are you my mother?" were the first words Laura spoke to Ororo.

"Yes," Ororo and Daken said simultaneously.

Laura was nestled in Logan's arms. She glanced uncertainly from Ororo to Daken.

"I'm your brother," Daken added firmly.

"Why are you here?" Laura responded warily. She seemed a bit uncertain of the "brother" concept. And perhaps somewhat disapproving.

Daken thought that over for a moment. "I think I'm supposed to take care of you when Mom and Dad aren't around."

Laura seemed a little skeptical about that, but she didn't voice any objections.

Logan put Laura down and said, "Why don't you show Laura around the place, Dak?"

Daken nodded and held out his hand. Laura looked at it suspiciously for a moment, but then took it.

"Dinner in an hour," Ororo said calmly. Then she bent over and kissed both kids on top of their heads.

* * *

><p><em>An Hour Later...<em>

Daken and Laura walked into the cabin's living room. They were covered in leaves, pine-needles, and dirt. And their clothes were torn. A young black bear that wasn't much bigger than Laura was with them. There was a tattered length of rope looped around the bear's neck and Daken was holding the other end.

The bear looked confused. Not unhappy or angry, just... confused.

"Can we keep him?" Laura asked excitedly. Daken nodded his head in eager agreement.

Logan peered over the edge of his newspaper at the bear. He didn't seem to have anything to say.

"He's alone and he needs a mom and a dad!" Laura continued earnestly. She seemed absolutely certain about what she was saying.

* * *

><p><em>Dinner Time...<em>

Dinner for Logan and Daken was the usual - meat, with a side of meat, lightly garnished with meat.

In a show of feminine solidarity, Laura helped Ororo finish off the salad. Actually, Ororo appreciated that a great deal. However, as soon as the green stuff was gone, Laura's appetite also became decidedly carnivorous.

The bear was sitting outside on the porch. He wasn't tied up, but didn't seem inclined to go anywhere. He was contentedly munching on a half a cabbage, a bell pepper, and a left-over cheeseburger.

* * *

><p><em>A Year Later...<em>

The bear didn't exactly live at the Logan residence, but he did stop by every now and then to cadge a free meal (he still liked cheeseburgers) and play with the kids. And since he made a point of staying in the area, the bear made a pretty good guard dog. Or guard bear.

When Dr. Henry McCoy finally got around to visiting Logan and Ororo's little backwoods cabin, he was a bit surprised to meet the family companion.

"You named him Hank?" Hank-the-person said as he and Hank-the-bear exchanged long looks. Hank-the-bear obviously had no idea what to make of Hank-the-person. However, any possibility of trouble was limited by the fact that Hank-the-person was actually bigger than Hank-the-bear. It also helped that Hank-the-bear was at the moment giving Laura a ride on his hirsute back. Hank-the-bear was always on his best behavior around the kids. He liked them.

Just to make the comparison between the two Hanks even more congruent. Daken was riding on Hank-the-person's shoulders.

Logan was having a hell of time keeping a straight face.

"It was Daken's idea, Ororo explained.

"He reminded me of you because you're both all furry," Daken said helpfully from his perch on Hank-the-person's shoulders.

Hank-the-person threw back his head and began roaring with laughter.

Hank-the-bear snorted, turned ponderously, and took Laura with him deeper into the woods.

Humans were weird.


	2. Chapter 2

NO CLAWS

"And what's the most important rule at school?" Ororo asked as she double-checked Daken and Laura's sack lunches.

"No claws," the kids chorused. Laura seemed excited by the new ritual. Daken was obviously less interested. He'd heard it before. Many times before.

"Say it again," Ororo ordered as she handed the kids their lunch.

"No claws!"

"One more time? Louder?"

"NO CLAWS!" Laura yelled. Daken just rolled his eyes before replying.

Ororo kissed them goodbye and the kids ran out the door. Logan was outside, warming up the truck. He was driving them to school.

* * *

><p>Hank the bear was on the front porch. He eagerly whuffed and sat up awkardly as the kids left the cabin. Both Laura and Daken took the time to energetically ruffle his fur while he urgled in pleasure. When they finally left, Hank felt a bit dissapointed. He wasn't sure why they were going. This was a new thing and bears are intrinsically quite conservative. They aren't big on change.<p>

Which a deep sigh, Hank left from the porch and ambled off to his favorite patch of blackberries.

* * *

><p>Daken hopped out of the truck and held the door open for his sister.<p>

Laura examined the school yard carefully, not yet moving from her seat. It wasn't shyness or fear. She just had a tendency to observe and analyze.

Logan smiled and smoothed down his daughter's hair. "What's the most important rule at school?" he asked quietly.

With a very tiny smile, Laura looked up at her dad and said, "No claws."

Then she got out of the truck. Daken grabbed her bookbag and he helped her put it on.

* * *

><p>As he got back on the road, Logan's phone rang.<p>

"What's up, 'Ro?" Logan asked.

"How did it go?" Ororo asked.

"Fine. Laura hesitated a little, but she didn't seem scared."

"Good. Come straight home."

Logan frowned. "I was going to stop at the hardware store and then talk to the guys at the county treasurer office about our property taxes."

"I am naked."

"Right. Home. On the way."

* * *

><p>The bed was a mess. Blankets, sheets, and pillows were scattered all over the bedroom.<p>

The couch cushions were disorganized.

The kitchen table looked a little wobbly. And perhaps a bit shocked and offended.

At the moment, Logan and Ororo were taking a well-deserved break. They were tangled up in a buffalo-hide rug in front of the fireplace. The fireplace's morning fire had died down to embers, but it was still cutting into the autumn chill. A lot of physical exertion on Logan and Ororo's part had made up for the rest of the temperature deficit.

It had been a while since Logan and Ororo had the cabin entirely to themselves. And privacy was a bit of an issue.

"Maybe we should also send them to summer school," Logan mused thoughtfully.

Ororo just smiled, sat up, and straddled Logan once again. The advantages of being married to a man with inexhaustible stamina were many.

Then Ororo's phone rang. With a sigh, Ororo got to her feet and walked over to kitchen counter where it was sitting. Still laying on the rug, Logan craned his head to enjoy the view. Watching Ororo without any clothes was like watching a sunset. You could see it a thousand times, but you never got bored. And you always wanted to see it just one more time...

"Hello?" Ororo said into her phone. Then she paused to listen.

"Oh, dear," Ororo said. Something in her voice made Logan immediately get to his feet.

* * *

><p>Logan and Ororo had a rule of their own where school was involved: Ororo did all of the talking. Logan tended to get very... terse... when it came to his kids.<p>

So Logan was waiting out in the truck while Ororo talked to the Principal.

Daken and Laura were sitting to one side in the Principal's office. They looked fine, although their clothes were bedraggled and torn. Daken had a rather resigned expression on his face. Laura seemed unperturbed.

"Mrs. Howlett," Principal Davis said through clenched teeth. "We simply can't have this kind of... disturbance in our school."

Ororo arched an eyebrow at Mr. Davis. Actually she wasn't completely unsympathetic to the man's plight. Mr. Davis was a reasonable man who showed no particular trace of anti-mutant bigotry. He knew what Logan, Ororo, Daken, and Laura were - and he was doing his best to make things work for them at his school.

"What kind of disturbance are you referring to, Mr. Davis?" Ororo asked.

"Daken beat up the sixth grade!" Laura announced brightly.

That made Ororo pause. She gave Daken an inquiring look.

Daken smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"One of the older boys tried to take the candy-bar from my lunch," Laura continued.

"And what did you do about that?" Ororo asked slowly.

"It was mine," Laura replied in a level tone that was terrifyingly in its implacability.

"I thought it was more than it was," Daken confessed. "So I went to help Laura. Then Laura punched Whit in the nuts and he fell down and started screaming. But Allen and Greg didn't see what happened and they thought I'd done something to Whit and..."

"I think I understand," Ororo said quietly.

Then Ororo looked back at Principal, "Mr. Davis, I believe we can reasonably say the Daken and Laura were provoked. And then matters escalated out of control. It was not all their fault."

"I agree," Mr. Davis growled. Ororo, who had become an expert on masculine growls, gave it a solid 7.5 out of 10. "And don't think I'm going to let those other boys get away with what they did. Especially Whitney. However, I can't have Laura and Daken responding to every affront with violence."

"I will have their father talk to them," Ororo said immediately.

Mr. Davis gave Ororo a long and narrow look. He didn't seem particularly comforted by what she had said.

"And I will talk to them as well," Ororo added quickly.

Mr. Davis nodded and leaned back in his chair.

* * *

><p>It was after school and Logan was driving Daken and Laura back home.<p>

"No claws," Laura said quietly. She was sitting between her father and Daken.

"No claws," Daken seconded.

Logan didn't smile, but he did give Laura's hand a squeeze.

"No claws," he agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

DECISIONS

"'Now is the winter of our discontent,'" Daken muttered. He sounded appropriately disgruntled.

Laura glanced curiously at Daken. Then she looked up at her father and asked, "What did he say?"

Like Daken, Logan was eyeing the dinner table with no little skepticism. However, he did take the time to answer Laura's question. "He's quoting Shakespeare. Richard the Third."

"What does it mean?" Laura continued curiously.

"It means I hate avocados," Daken announced as he glared at the green stuff on his plate.

Ororo just smiled calmly and said, "A vegetarian meal once a week is hardly a great burden."

"Avocados are okay!" Laura challenged Daken.

Daken glared at Laura. "'In thy foul throat thou liest.'"

"Quit being a jerk," Laura shot back. She was rather beginning to dislike the Shakespearean version of Daken.

"Eat up," Logan ordered. Then he took a deep breath and followed his own command.

Daken muttered a few choice comments about green slime. Logan gave him a long and level look. Daken ate the rest of his dinner in a state of silent protest.

* * *

><p>They were in bed. Logan was mostly under the covers, with his back up against the headboard. Meanwhile, Ororo sat next to him on the edge of the bed. She was wearing a simple white nightgown that covered her from neck to ankle. And her eyes were closed in quiet pleasure as her husband worked a brush through her long and straight hair.<p>

Logan had never exactly put it into words, but Ororo wasn't allowed to brush her own hair when he was around. Instead, Logan did it for her. Ororo thought that it was an eminently pleasant way to honor and obey her husband.

"You were very patient at dinner," Ororo said quietly as her head nodded from side-to-side to the rhythmic pull of the brush.

"Damn right I was," Logan chuckled. "Why the sudden avocado attack?"

"I talked to Hank. He says a meat-heavy diet is normal for you, Daken, and Laura. However, he is concerned that there are certain nutrients the children may not be getting."

That was good enough for Logan. "Okay, then. Meatless Mondays it is."

Ororo smiled, turned around, and wrapped her arms around Logan's neck. Logan tossed the brush aside. Then their lips met.

Making love was problematical in a home occupied by two children with inhumanly superb hearing. So Logan and Ororo had developed a habit of waiting until after Logan dropped Daken and Laura off at school. But in the evenings, it was possible for them to make some quietly extravagant promises about what tomorrow would bring.

* * *

><p>Daken, Laura, and Hank-the-bear were lying in a pile on the cabin porch. Hank was curled up around Laura and snoring impressively. Laura was dozing on-and-off as she enjoyed the furry warmth. Daken was using Hank as something comfortable to lean against as he finished up some reading.<p>

With a deep sigh, Daken suddenly closed his book and tossed it onto a nearby rocking chair.

"What's wrong, Dak?" Laura asked sleepily.

Daken was silent for a few moments before he responded. "Richard the Third was a bad guy."

"He's the king you've been reading about? The one who talked funny?"

"Yeah," Daken said shortly as he got to his feet. Hank growled a sleepy protest at the loss of body heat.

"Sorry, Hank," Daken said quietly, "but it's bedtime."

Laura held up her arms and Daken lifted her out of the bear's grasp.

Hank opened an eye and gave the kids a slightly betrayed look. Still clinging to her brother, Laura snikted out a foot-claw and reached down with her leg to scratch Hank behind the ears. He loved that.

* * *

><p>It only took about a half-hour to drive to the rural school that Daken and Laura attended. Laura often dozed at least part of the way. Daken had lately taken to using the time to finish up schoolwork.<p>

Laura was slumped bonelessly against her brother, with her eyes closed. Daken had an arm wrapped around her as he used his other hand to jot down some notes.

Daken silently closed the notebook, inserted his pen into the spine, and then stuffed it into his backpack with a little more force than necessary.

Logan glanced at his son. "Something bothering you, Dak?"

Daken was silent for a few moments before he responded. "I finished up that story about Richard the Third. He was kind of a creep. I kept hoping all of his talk about being bad was just talk. That he'd decide to be something else."

Logan nodded slowly. "Yeah. There are some holdouts, but most historians don't seem to have anything good to say about him. He pretty likely murdered his nephews. They were between him and the throne."

Daken didn't immediately respond. Logan could tell that something was on Daken's mind, but he'd long since learned that you were better off waiting for Daken to speak up in his own time.

"He was different from everyone else," Daken finally said.

Logan didn't immediately respond. "Different from everyone else" was a big subject in their family.

"You're talking about his back, right?" Logan finally asked.

Daken nodded. "Yeah. I read an article that had a picture of a guy with a deformed spine. It was pretty bad."

"He probably spent a lot of his life in pain," Logan said. His hands involuntarily flexed on the steering wheel.

Daken seemed to consider that for a while. "Maybe Richard wouldn't have been so bad, if he hadn't been different from everyone else."

"Maybe," Logan said quietly, "but you can't judge a man by what might have been. All you have to work with is what he actually was - and what he actually did."

"In the story, Richard said that he didn't have any choice except to be evil. Being different made him that way."

Logan paused as he considered his own blood-soaked past. Then he shook his head. "You always have a choice. You just have to be willing to make the right one."

Daken frowned and retired back into what Logan and Ororo both called "Dakenland" - a place of deep and silent brooding where their son went to consider the things he considered important.

They were another five miles down the road when Daken finally spoke up again.

"Being different is a pretty lousy excuse for hurting other people," Daken said as he stared out the window.

Logan wordlessly studied his son's profile.

* * *

><p>The kids tumbled out of the truck in a flurry of limbs, jackets, scarves, gloves, and book-bags.<p>

"Avocados are still okay!" Laura growled at her brother. The argument had started again just before they got to the school. Laura seemed pretty determined to defend the honor of avocados against all aggressors.

Daken rolled his eyes and then called upon his new-found familiarity with Shakespeare once again. "'Dispute not with her: she is lunatic.'"

Laura punched her brother in the shoulder. "'Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes!'"

It occurred to Logan that he hadn't heard this much Elizabethan English since the last time he had a drink with Thor.

Daken grinned at Laura as he rubbed his shoulder. As small as Laura was, she packed a considerable punch - and Daken respected that. "Did you get into my homework last night?"

Laura shrugged. "I didn't like that book. Too many funny words. And I didn't want Richard to be such a bad-guy. I kept hoping he'd get better."

Daken nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. Same here. I wanted him to change, but after a while I ran out of excuses for all of the bad things he was doing."

Laura nodded in silent agreement. Maybe there was something sad in her eyes.

Then Daken took Laura's hand in his so he could walk her to the front door. From inside the truck, Logan watched them enter the school.

"'So wise so young, they say, do never live long,'" he quoted quietly to himself.

Well, he and 'Ro were there to make damned sure that didn't happen.

* * *

><p>Ororo greeted Logan back home with a kiss.<p>

"How was the drive?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around Logan and tucked her hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

"Pretty good," Logan replied slowly.

Ororo noticed that something was off in Logan's voice. "Is something wrong?"

The ghost of a smile appeared on Logan's face. "Dak doesn't know it, but he's in the process of deciding what kind of man he's going to be."

Ororo frowned as she examined Logan's face. "What is he deciding?"

Logan's smile turned into a broad grin and he kissed Ororo again.


	4. Chapter 4

THE VISITOR

Logan was at work. The children were in school. And it was a crisply beautiful autumn afternoon.

Sitting in her husband's pickup truck, Ororo considered her next move. She was parked in the center of the small town that was the closest thing to civilization near where they lived. Logan kept his office there. The school that Daken and Laura attended was located just outside of town.

And an old and deadly foe was in town. Ororo had caught a glimpse of her just a few moments ago.

There was a decision to make. Her husband was in danger. Her children were threatened. Ororo had to act.

Ororo's eyes flared white. Off to the west, amid the storm-friendly mountains, the atmosphere bent to her will. Pressure patterns shifted and winds began to whip erratically back and forth as clouds formed and piled up.

Still sitting in the truck, Ororo impassively watched her handiwork as an ominous-looking storm front steadily became more and more visible. Within minutes, it was fully formed and advancing down the mountains.

A local deputy sheriff walked by Ororo's truck, obviously surprised by the sudden development in the weather. Then he noticed Ororo and gave her a polite, but distracted, nod. His name was Ed Barnett, and he was a young veteran who had signed on with the Sheriff's department a year ago. The local consensus of opinion was that Ed was a good catch for the county. He was a reasonable and fair young man who took his job seriously.

Ororo nodded to Ed in return. It was strange to think that he might be arresting her in just a few minutes. Yes, Ororo could easily handle the young man in any kind of confrontation, but that wasn't something she particularly wanted to do. Ed would just be doing his duty.

After all, Ororo was about to kill someone.

* * *

><p>Ororo took a deep breath and stepped out of the truck. She left the door unlocked and the keys in the ignition. Logan would be needing the truck after she...<p>

Standing next to the truck, Ororo closed her eyes for a moment. Then she ran her fingers through her hair and opened her eyes again. Her mind was a whirlwind of possible consequences. In the next few minutes, she might very well lose everything. Once she'd done what was necessary, she would either have to accept being arrested or flee.

No. She wouldn't allow her children to become fugitives. However, she couldn't imagine leaving them. Or her husband. She was so happy with her new life. The idea of throwing it away was almost too much to bear.

Could she claim self-defense? The person she was about to kill was a well-known international criminal. Ororo was willing to murder for her family, so lying would be no problem. But how sympathetic would the local courts be to a mutant defendant?

As Ororo crossed the town square, the gust-front from the approaching storm washed over the town, blowing cold and strong. The few locals still outside begin quickly heading indoors.

Then every building in town seemed to shiver as a flash of lightning and a near immediate crash of thunder rolled down the mountains.

Ororo made the storm wait until just after she stepped inside the town diner. Then the rain finally began to pour down.

* * *

><p>Inside the diner, Ororo made a quick assessment.<p>

Two elderly gentlemen - a pair of local ranchers - were sitting near the window, having coffee as they discussed the problems of the world. Ellie McPherson, the young mother who was the afternoon waitress, was topping off their coffee cups. The owner and cook - Charlie Wash - was busing some tables. All of them were staring out of the diner's plate glass front window, startled by the sudden downpour.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Howlett," Ellie said politely to Ororo. Ororo smiled automatically and returned the greeting. Charlie also said hello and then went back to work. The two ranchers just nodded stiffly, which was a common reaction from the older folks in the area. Ororo had never been able to figure out if they were simply being formal and old-fashioned - or if they had a problem with black people, mutants, outsiders, or some combination of the three. In any case, they were never specifically rude or troublesome. And, when you got down to it, that was pretty much all you could ask of people.

In the back of the diner, a woman dressed in a hooded coat sat alone at an isolated table. The back door, which lead to a narrow alleyway, was right next to her table.

Ororo considered her options. The civilians at the front of the diner were a complication. However, if Ororo used the storm she'd just created to augment her natural power, she could call a massive lighting strike through the back door. That would be enough to kill the woman sitting in back.

The problem was, Ororo couldn't absolutely guarantee the safety of the other people in the diner. Lightning was intrinsically vicious and capricious - even in her hands. And the diner was a small and confined place.

As Ororo watched, the woman she was planning to kill raised a hand in greeting. Her hand was abnormally large and her fingers were at least twice as long as a normal human's.

The owner and the waitress tried not to stare. The two elderly ranchers unabashedly watched with coldly disapproving eyes.

Outside, the storm howled and rattled at the windows.

"Hello, Ororo," Deathstrike called quietly in Japanese. "Come sit with me."

* * *

><p>Ororo considered ending it right then and there. Her storm was furiously ready and she could sense the deadly dance and play of potential electricity in the air. Besides, getting close to Deathstrike would be unwise. Like most of the inhabitants of Logan's circle of boundless violence, Deathstrike was horrifyingly dangerous at close quarters. Ororo would be making herself desperately vulnerable if she actually closed the distance between them.<p>

But the closer Ororo got the Deathstrike, the better she would be able to control her lightning.

The diner fell silent as Ororo paced down its length, but the rain was still pounding away at the roof.

Yuriko Oyama - Lady Deathstrike - was wearing clothing that was heavy enough to conceal the most extreme of her cybernetic enhancements. Even the sleeves of her coat had been long enough to conceal her strange hands, until she chose to reveal them.

There was a pot of tea on Yuriko's table. An untouched cup was sitting in front of her.

Her eyes never straying from Yuriko's, Ororo pulled a chair away from the table and sat down.

The situation was dangerously balanced on a knife's edge. If Yuriko attacked, Ororo would only have the slimmest fraction of a second to react. But even if Yuriko dealt a death-blow, Ororo would probably still be able to call down her lightning. And that would be devastating.

"You should not have come here," Ororo said. Her voice was cold and distant, but not angry. It was long past the time for anger.

Yuriko's brown eyes had a faint rim of orange around the iris. The pupils were oddly gear-shaped. Her original eyes - her real eyes - were long gone.

For a long moment, she silently examined Ororo's face. Then Yuriko tapped the teapot with the claw-tip of an abnormally long finger. It sounded like a click of metal on ceramic.

"Would you care from some tea?" Yuriko asked.

Ororo considered the question. Then nodded wordlessly.

Yuriko's gaze shifted away from Ororo. "Please," she called to the waitress in excellent English, "could we have another cup?"

* * *

><p>Ellie silently put a cup in front of Ororo, filled it from the teapot, and then hurried away.<p>

"I thought Logan would be the one to visit me," Yuriko said calmly as she picked up her own cup and took a sip.

"You would not want that," Ororo responded.

A brief, bitter smile flickered across Yuriko's lips. Despite the strange scars her father had carved into her face, and the ravages of the Hellfire Club surgery that had transformed her into a cyborg, it was still possible for Ororo to see what Yuriko had originally looked like. She had not been a beautiful woman, but her lean face had once held a certain handsome dignity.

"I have fought Logan many times," Yuriko said thoughtfully. "I have both won and lost."

"You would lose that fight," Ororo said with a shake of her head. Logan would see Deathstrike's presence as a threat to their children and would react with headlong fury. The only question would be how many pieces Yuriko would be in once Logan was done with her.

Yuriko simply shrugged. "I think nobody would win that particular fight."

Ororo didn't reply. Yuriko was right. Once Yuriko was dead, the new life Logan and Ororo had built for themselves would be gone forever.

"How did this happen, Ororo?" Yuriko asked curiously.

"What do you mean?"

Yurkio smiled again. "How did two such formidable warriors as yourself and Logan-san come to take up quiet and peaceful lives?"

Ororo shrugged broadly. "We found ourselves with new responsibilities. We changed to meet them."

"You mean the children," Yuriko said thoughtfully.

Not trusting herself to speak, Ororo nodded.

"And it is because of the children that you intend to kill me?" Yuriko added.

Ororo nodded again.

"But they are not really your children," Yuriko pointed out.

A low, intense, and impossibly long growl of thunder reverberated through the building. The teapot and the cups on the table rattled as the floor vibrated. Then a flurry of gasps and curses came from the front of the diner as static electricity began to visibly play across the metal objects and fixtures of the room.

Ororo's eyes were now pure white.

Yuriko froze and kept her hands visible and still. Next to her on the table, a discarded spoon was rattling from side-to-side as it emitted faint blue sparks.

Then she said softly, "I meant no insult, Lady Howlett. I am simply stating a fact."

"Daken and Laura are my children, Lady Oyama. Never forget that."

"As I said, Lady Howlett: I meant no insult. And I am no threat to your family."

Ororo nodded once. And then the play of wild electricity in the diner receded.

"Your presence here is a threat," Ororo said coldly as her eyes cleared and became visible again.

Yuriko shook her head. "That is not true."

Ororo wasn't in an agreeable mood. "You have been at war with my husband for years, Yuriko," Ororo said tersely. "How has that changed?"

"Everything has changed," Yuriko answered with a laugh that seemed slightly off-center. "Because your husband has changed."

Ororo gave Yuriko a questioning look.

Yuriko took a deep breath. "For so long, I told myself that I was fighting Logan because his existence was an insult to my father's honor. Then, after years of empty battle, I told myself that it had become a personal struggle between us. I thought that I had to end the Wolverine if I was to ever find peace with myself."

Ororo still didn't say anything as she studied Yuriko's face.

Yuriko sighed and continued. "This morning, I used everything I've learned over the years about tracking Logan. I kept my distance and made sure the wind and the sunlight favored me as I followed him. And then I saw it. I saw Logan drive into town. I saw him drop you at the market. I saw him leave his children at their school. He made sure that they had their books and lunches. He gave his son a few dollars for some reason. Then he kissed his daughter goodbye and she hugged him. I could tell that the boy wanted to do the same, but he is at that age where a boy begins to feel there should be some physical distance between himself and his father. It is a silly thing about fathers and sons that I saw happen long ago in my own family."

Then Yuriko looked Ororo in the eyes. "I saw then that the Wolverine was gone. I hadn't killed him, but he was gone. Congratulations, Ororo. You've done something I could not do with all my years of hate and violence."

Yuriko looked down at her distorted hands. They were resting on the table in front of her. She curled her long fingers and the familiar motion was both smoothly mechanical and eerily, coldly, insect-like. It did not seem at all human.

"And it was all for nothing," Yuriko finished tonelessly. She seemed bottomlessly tired and sad. "The hating. The fighting. The killing. What I did to my body and my soul. What I did to others. All for nothing. The Wolverine is gone and I had little, if anything, to do with it. It is as if I have never existed."

Ororo slowly reached over and took Yuriko's deadly hands in her own.

"So this is victory," Yuriko said as she began to cry a substance that wasn't tears. "My glorious, glorious, victory."

* * *

><p>The county airport was a concrete airstrip built by the government during World War II. A few odd support buildings - most of them not in use - were clustered at one end of the strip. The terminal had been built in the seventies. It was about the size of a medium bus-station.<p>

Ororo and Yuriko were waiting in the terminal as Logan drove up. Ororo had used the pickup to drive herself and Yuriko to the airport. Logan was getting a lift from a young man who worked for a local land surveyor. The surveyor and Logan both had an office in the same building. They occasionally exchanged neighborly favors.

After thanking his driver for the lift, Logan walked into the terminal.

Ororo and Yuriko were sitting next to each other. Ororo looked tired and wan. She was obviously coming down from an adrenaline high. Yuriko looked...

Logan found himself searching for the word to describe Yuriko. All he could come up with was "empty".

Yuriko stood and bowed to Logan. "Logan-san," she said politely.

Logan carefully returned the bow, not allowing himself to lose sight of Yurikio as he did. Old habits died hard. Historically, whenever he and Lady Deathstrike were in each other's presence, a deadly fight ensued.

"It is good to see you again, Lady Oyama," Logan said in Japanese. Politeness would cost him nothing. And the essence of courtesy was the sociable lie.

Ororo moved to her husband and kissed him on the cheek. "Hank and Kitty are on the way," she said quietly. Logan nodded in response.

"I am sorry to have intruded," Yuriko continued, her eyes oddly distant and lost. "But Ororo and I were talking and she suggested that perhaps Dr. McCoy could help with some issues that are of concern to me."

Logan nodded slowly and said, "Hank is really good at what he does."

It seemed to Logan as if something was broken in Yuriko. Logan was glad that he wasn't in a fight. He was even happier that Ororo wasn't in a fight. Yuriko Oyama had always been a terribly dangerous foe - as much due to her iron-willed fanaticism as her physical prowess - but there was something unsettling about seeing her like this.

Off in the distance, Logan could hear the roar of the Blackbird's engines. They must be turning in order to make their final approach.

"I will miss you, Logan-san," Yuriko said distantly. She had also heard the Blackbird.

"Perhaps we will meet again," Logan said.

Yuriko gave him a tiny smile and shook her head. "There is no need."

* * *

><p>Holding a cellphone to his ear, Logan glanced at the couch. Ororo, Daken, and Laura were on it, dead asleep. The kids were curled up in Ororo's arms. Ororo wasn't letting them out of her sight. And Logan wouldn't let either Ororo or the kids out of <span>his<span> sight. They were over-reacting, of course, but it was completely understandable.

"Can you help her?" Logan asked.

Hank's voice was startlingly clear given the normal reception problems in the part of the country where Ororo and Logan lived. But then again, the phone Logan was using had a fair amount of Shi'ar technology built into it.

Hank sighed, "The real problem isn't the cybernetics. It's psychological. I'm consulting with Dr. Samson. Removing as much of the cybernetics as possible will help Yuriko's mental state, but she'll still need psychological counseling."

"Okay," Logan said doubtfully. This wasn't really his sort of thing. He just hoped...

"Do what you can for her, Hank. Please," Logan heard himself say. Deep down, despite all the years of insane violence, he'd never thought Yuriko Oyama was evil. Just horribly misguided.

"We will. How are Ororo and the kids doing?"

"Asleep in a big pile on the couch."

"It is my medical opinion that you should join them."

Logan chuckled. "Sounds good. Any other suggestions?"

"Work less and play more. Kiss and hug your kids more often. Make wild and passionate love to your beautiful wife whenever the opportunity presents itself."

Logan grinned into the phone. "Hank, I should ask your advice more often."

"Also, you should eat more vegetables and cut down on the drinking and smoking," Hank continued.

"Go to hell, you quack," Logan grumbled into the phone.

Hank was still laughing when Logan hung up.

Logan kicked off his boots and wiggled onto the couch. Daken growled a sleepy protest and then immediately fell back to sleep. Laura didn't even awaken as she burrowed deeper into the warm spot between her brother and her mother.

Ororo smiled, pressed her backside against Logan, and gave him a wiggle that was innocently meaningless to their children, but was somewhere between R- and X-Rated for Logan.

Burying his face in his wife's hair, Logan kissed her on the back of the neck, and then went to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

THE LITTLEST COMIC FAN

Billy Watt was in love, but he just didn't know how to express it. That's a problem common of many men and boys, but it can be especially acute when you're in the second grade.

So while Daken and Billy's big-brother Brad played video-games in the living room, Billy showed Laura around the house, all the while wretchedly trying to figure out a way to tell Laura how he felt about her.

"And this is where my dad hangs out. He calls it his den," Billy said as he tried not to stare at Laura's green eyes. As far as Billy was concerned, Laura had the coolest eyes he'd ever seen.

Laura was actually mildly impressed with the Watt home. The Watt family had a much bigger house than the Howlett family. Why... Brad and Billy each had their own room! And the only place that Laura's dad had all to himself was his office here in town.

"Does your dad work here?" Laura asked.

Billy shrugged. "Sometimes. Mostly he just reads and does things on his computer."

Laura entered the room. Maps - modern and historical - covered most of the walls. However, there were also more personal displays. A family portrait was framed on one wall. There was a diploma from an out-of-state college. Another picture showed a younger Mr. Watt and some other men in soldier's uniforms. A special place of prominence went to a flag folded into a neat triangle that was displayed in a wooden box. Next to the flag was a photo of a man who looked like an older version of Mr. Watt.

Overflowing bookshelves were haphazardly scattered around the room. An elderly desk had an up-to-date computer sitting on it. The desk chair was a little dilapidated, but still serviceable.

Being who she was, Laura immediately bee-lined towards trouble. There were some brightly colored publications piled on Mr. Watt's desk. Laura picked one of them up.

"What's this?" she asked curiously.

"It's a comicbook," Billy replied authoritatively, glad for the opportunity to show-off for Laura. "My dad collected a bunch of them when he was a kid. And he still buys some. Lately, he's been looking through them a lot. He told mom that he's trying to decide if they're worth something, but I think he just likes to read them."

Laura stared at the cover of the comicbook she was holding. A dark-skinned woman with white hair, dressed in a scanty outfit, was poised dramatically in mid-air. Lightning surrounded her and danced between her widespread hands. Meanwhile, two outlandishly clad men seemed to be rushing towards the reader. One of the men had blue skin, solid yellow eyes, and a barbed tail. The other was brandishing metal claws from each hand. They were grimacing aggressively and both of them seemed to have a lot of sharp teeth.

Laura began flipping through the comicbook.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Logan arrived at the Watt household. He hadn't been able to pick the kids up from school on time. Mrs. Watt had been kind enough to let them stay with her.<p>

"Sorry," he apologized to Mrs. Watt. "I got stuck at the office. Thanks for keeping an eye on the kids."

"Oh, don't apologize," Mrs. Watt said with a laugh. "They've been pretty quiet - well, except for whenever Daken and Brad get into a tight spot in their game and start shouting."

"What's Laura been up to?" Logan asked.

"She and Billy are in the den - doing some reading. They're so cute together."

While Mrs. Watt fetched Laura, Logan dragged a loudly protesting Daken away from his game.

* * *

><p>Dinner was over. Logan and Daken were outside, dealing with an errant tail-light on the truck. Laura was perched on the kitchen counter, next to the sink, helping her mother wash and dry the dishes. Laura wasn't exactly talkative, but it seemed to Ororo that Laura was even less voluble than normal. She had something on her mind.<p>

As Ororo passed a dish to Laura, Laura finally broke her silence.

"Mom, were you once married to a man named T'Challa?"

Laura had pretty impressive reactions. So she was able to grab the dish before it hit the floor.

* * *

><p>Logan and Ororo were sitting together on the porch-swing.<p>

"I will never understand why you did not allow me to deal with that Hudlin fellow," Ororo fumed.

"Because you were mad as hell," Logan replied dryly. "And I'm the only person in this family allowed to make a fool of himself because of his temper. Besides, Reggie was just a guy trying to make a living. And he was obviously kinda hung up on you. Believe me, I understand that last part."

Ororo gave her distracted husband a tiny smile. Even a goddess is vulnerable to those odd moments when a man unwittingly makes what he considers to be a simple truth into the deepest sort of flattery.

"So what did you tell Laura?" Logan asked.

Ororo rolled her eyes. "The truth. That Africa is a big place and I never actually met T'Challa - either as a Prince or a King - until after I came to America. And that we have never been more than friends."

"Did she have any other questions?

Ororo gave Logan an amused look, "Well, she did want to know the details about you and Jean. She saw that portrait of you two kissing."

Logan let out a long, whistling breath. There was a glass of whiskey on the porch railing next to Logan. He downed it in one swallow.

"Laura is concerned that you and her Uncle Scott were fighting over her Aunt Jean," Ororo added. "She feels it was rather stupid and that everyone should have just been friends."

"She has a point," Logan conceded. "What else?"

"She wants me to teach her how to pick a lock," Ororo continued.

Logan considered that as he slowly rattled the ice-cubes in his otherwise empty drink.

"Logan!" Ororo protested.

"Lockpicking is a handy skill," Logan pointed out. "You and Gumbo used it to save our tails more than once. It might be a good thing for Dak and Laura to know."

"I will not train our children to be thieves!"

"I agree, but we should consider anything that might give them an edge," Logan suggested. "Eventually they're going to grow up and go out into the world. And we don't know what they're going to run into. I'd rather they have other options to settle situations besides just sticking their claws into someone's neck."

Ororo thought that over, her fingers drumming thoughtfully on the arm of the swing.

"We should wait until they are older," she finally said.

Logan nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. What else did Laura mention?"

"She wants to go to Japan and meet Yukio someday."

Logan took a long and yearning look at his empty glass.

"Okay," he said eventually. "So just what did those comics have to say about the three of us?"

Ororo pursed her lips. "As for Yukio and I... well, the comics were suggestive, but never explicit. I'm sure that Claremont fellow had his suspicions, but he was writing in a more conservative time. On the other hand, whenever the comics have you in Japan, it usually ends with you and Yukio kissing passionately on a pile of dead ninjas."

"Once upon a time, that was actually kinda accurate," Logan conceded. "Did any of the guys at Marvel make the obvious connection?"

Ororo shook her head. "Probably, but there were limits to what they could put into print. Thank goodness for the Comics Code!"

"So... no stories that involve the three of us naked on the roof of the Imperial Palace?"

Ororo's lips quirked. "We had far too much Sake that night."

Logan was also trying not to smile. "And then we couldn't find our clothes the next morning."

"I should never make love after I have had too much to drink," Ororo admitted. "The weather turns unpredictable and that can include some very powerful winds."

"It did make sneaking out of the palace grounds kinda tricky."

Ororo smiled and took her husband's hands in her own. The kiss they shared was long and lingering.

"Any idea which other comics Laura's read?" Logan finally asked.

"I think we are going to find out," Ororo suggested ominously.

Logan let out a big sigh. "We should have sued Marvel into the ground. I told Charles and Scotty to sic Matt Murdock on them."

Ororo frowned. "Charles thought that the comics would enhance our public image. And they obviously did help. Remember when children would ask us to autograph their comicbooks?"

Logan shrugged. "Yeah, but the guys at Marvel are pretty big into soap opera. And their stories just got crazier and crazier over time. People have some strange ideas about us."

Ororo's eyes suddenly went wide. "Thank the Goddess they never made that movie!"

Logan's grimaced in exasperated agreement. "Remember the guy that was supposed to play me? The six foot tall Australian pretty-boy?"

"At least their version of you had coherent lines. That leaked script had me saying the oddest thing about electrocuting a toad."

* * *

><p>It was after bedtime for the kids. And Ororo was also asleep.<p>

Logan was still on the porch, enjoying the night air. And waiting. He knew he was going to have a visitor. Logan could be a lot more patient than most people realized.

"Daddy?" a quiet voice spoke up from the cabin's doorway.

Logan turned in his chair to look at his daughter.

"You're supposed to be in bed," Logan chided gently.

"Sorry," Laura said as she stepped out onto the porch. She was dressed in one of her brother's t-shirts and her hair was tied back into a ponytail. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Come here," Logan said as he opened his arms.

Laura immediately crawled into her father's lap.

For a long moment, they both examined the nighted forest in a way most people couldn't. Hank-the-bear was slumbering near the woodpile. A nervous raccoon was perched in a nearby tree, hoping that the leviathan below would eventually leave. In another tree, an owl ignored the bear and the raccoon as it considered its options. Then, with a graceful flicker of wings, the owl glided off its branch.

There was a tiny gasp from the forest-floor as the owl slew its prey.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked.

Laura didn't answer immediately, but after a moment or two she eventually spoke up. "Did those people at Weapon-X really do all of those things to you?"

"Yes." Logan answered. He really wasn't sure what else to say. Meanwhile he prayed that Laura hadn't seen that damned Barry Windsor-Smith graphic novel. That one was too damned close to the truth.

_A whirlwind of blood and agony. Alarms howling and people screaming. The stench of panic. The meaningless impact of bullets jerking his body back and forth. And the bloodthirsty fury that filled Logan... it was like a blissful mix of heroin and heaven. How much of his life since then had been nothing more than an attempt to once again find that state of being?_

Laura was silent for a long time before speaking again. "If you and mommy and Uncle Kurt and Uncle Peter hadn't rescued me - would they have done the same thing to me?"

_The roar of gunfire intermixed with the occasionally thunderous thump of a grenade. Peter picking up a power-armor trooper and pitching him through a steel wall. Kurt teleporting back to them, yelling that enemy reinforcements were coming. He had a through-and-through bullet wound in one thigh and was trying to hold it closed. Ororo, her face streaked with blood, running towards him, carrying a small, crying, bundle._

Logan closed his eyes and hugged Laura very hard.

"No," he lied to Laura and to himself and to the universe. "They wouldn't have done anything like that to you. You're just a little girl."

Laura was quiet for some time before speaking again.

"Will Sabertooth ever come after us?" she asked in a whisper.

"No," Logan said flatly.

"Why not?" Laura wasn't precisely scared, but she obviously considered the subject to be something to worry about.

"He's gone," Logan said shortly. Everything in his voice said that the subject was closed.

Laura looked up at her father. Then she nodded and laid her head against Logan's chest. Laura knew what her father's word was worth.

She was asleep in seconds.

Logan held Laura as he stared into the darkness.

_As long as Creed was alive, they - and even more importantly, Daken and Laura - would never be safe. That had to be corrected._

_They simply had no choice._

_Logan and Ororo silently held hands as the remains burned away to dust in a high-temperature medical-waste crematorium. Then they took the Blackbird around the world, scattering Creed's ashes in the waters of five oceans. At each stop, Ororo whispered the words of an ancient African ritual that was half-way between being a prayer and a spell. It was intended to forever banish the damned and doomed souls of the most evil of men._

_Logan was oddly quiet during the whole thing._

_After they were done, they landed in South Africa and made love on an isolated beach. It was the closest they ever came to celebrating a death._

* * *

><p>Logan and Bradley Watt were having a drink in the better of the two local bars. They had a corner table to themselves, giving them some privacy as they talked quietly.<p>

"I'm sorry Laura got into my collection," Brad sighed. "That was careless of me. I'll keep it locked up from now on."

Logan shrugged as he took a sip from his beer. "It's okay, Brad. It was pretty much inevitable that this would happen someday. It's probably better that we've finally got it out of the way."

"You know, I've never asked you about those stories in the comics..." Brad said slowly.

Logan contemplated his beer. "Some of it is true. Some of it is bull. The guys at Marvel are entertainers - not reporters. They have a schedule to keep and getting a story in print is more important to them than getting all of the details right. And it's not like we tell them everything."

That was about as much prying as Bradley felt comfortable doing.

"You know," Bradley mused thoughtfully, "it's a probably a good thing they never made that movie."

Logan nodded in agreement.

* * *

><p>Autumn continued its slow drift to winter. Eventually, there were some decisions to be made in terms of Halloween costumes - Logan and Ororo always took the kids into town to go trick-or-treating.<p>

Ororo drew a firm line at cutting Laura's hair into a Mohawk - even though Laura's hair would grow back within a day. And without the Mohawk, Laura didn't want her first choice of a costume. Besides, it wasn't like a punkish black leather outfit was really appropriate for a girl her age. So instead, Laura settled for a variant of her mother's original black and gold-trimmed costume. She seemed more than happy with it.

"Whoosh!" Laura yelled just before jumping off the fireplace mantelpiece. Her cape flared dramatically behind her as she hurtled across the room.

Ororo expertly caught her in mid-flight. If you lived with Laura, you had to expect sudden bursts of acrobatic energy. Then Ororo swung a wildly giggling Laura over her shoulders.

"I think we should go for a real flight," Ororo told her daughter. Laura was cheering as Ororo carried her outside.

Daken came out of the room. His outfit was brown and orange and featured a savage-looking necklace of teeth and bones.

"This is great!" Daken said proudly to his dad. "I was scared it would be kind of dorky."

Logan smiled at his son. "What did you expect? Yellow spandex?"


	6. Chapter 6

SMOOTH OPERATOR

Aliza Horseman was one-half Mexican, one-quarter Sioux Indian, one-quarter Irish, and - as far as Daken was concerned - one hundred percent gorgeous.

Their eyes met in the hallway. They were heading in opposite directions as they hurried to their next classes.

"Hi, Daken," Aliza said with bright smile.

Daken tried to say something like, "Hello, Aliza. You look great today."

What came out instead was, "Hurk."

Aliza gave him a puzzled look. And then she was gone.

Daken sighed and slammed the book he was carrying against his forehead. Hard.

* * *

><p>It was after-school. Daken and Laura were sitting on the steps, waiting for their Dad to pick them up.<p>

Aliza Horsemen walked by - she lived just a few blocks away and she had to get home and help her mom with chores.

"Hi," Aliza said distractedly to Daken and Laura.

"Hi," Laura replied.

Daken opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Then he paused, took a deep breath, mentally regrouped, and...

By then, Aliza was halfway down the block.

"HI!" Daken roared. Everyone in the schoolyard stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Aliza didn't even notice.

"You can be such a dork sometimes," Laura sighed in disgust.

Daken frustratedly ran a hand through his Mohawk.

"Tell me about it," he growled at his sister.

* * *

><p>Daken was sitting on the porch, using Hank-the-bear as a backrest. And he was deep in thought as he tried to figure out why it was so difficult to talk to Aliza.<p>

"Something wrong, Dak?" Logan asked as he stepped outside. He was about to enjoy his evening cigar.

"Girl problems," Daken replied shortly.

Logan paused for a long moment as he examined his son. "Anyone I know?" he asked.

"Aliza Horseman."

Logan frowned thoughtfully. "The pretty little brown girl with the red hair?"

"Yeah."

"Taste in women is apparently genetic," Ororo called from inside the cabin.

Logan chuckled. Daken threw his hands in the air, stood up, and stalked off into the woods.

Hank-the-bear opened one sleepy eye and made an interrogative chuffing sound. Logan sat down cross-legged next to the bear and scratched him behind the ears.

"Don't worry. He'll be back," Logan assured the bear.

* * *

><p>"It's just a case of puppy love," Logan said with a shrug.<p>

He and Ororo were sitting on the couch together. They had some of their best conversations there.

"Yes, but we still should give some thought to what adolescence will be like for them," Ororo suggested

"Dak and Laura are good kids. They'll sort it out. And we'll be here to help him."

Ororo sighed. "You are probably right. I should not worry about it too much. And we have some time to consider how to handle it."

Logan nodded and gave Ororo a long kiss.

* * *

><p>Daken jumped out of the truck and wordlessly walked back into the cabin. He hadn't said a word all the way back home.<p>

"What's wrong with him?" Logan asked Laura.

Laura rolled her eyes. "He tried to talk to Aliza during lunch. But as he was walking over to her, he tripped over his own feet and fell on his face. Everyone in school saw it."

Logan winced. "I suppose they all laughed at him."

Laura shook her head. "They didn't dare. What's wrong with him?"

Logan hesitated, not sure how to explain. Then he gave it a try. "Dak has some feelings about Aliza. It takes time to sort that out. And it can be kind of tough."

Laura frowned. "Is it about sex?" she asked.

Logan stared at his daughter. "It dam... danged well better not be. Not at his age. And just what the heck do you know about sex?"

Laura responded instantly. "At its most basic, it is a procreative process in which the male penis becomes erect due to increased blood flow and is inserted into the female vagina..."

* * *

><p>Logan was sitting in the bed of his truck. He was making pretty good headway on a bottle of whiskey.<p>

Ororo walked up and handed him a glass. Logan tended to gulp down whiskey when he was drinking straight from the bottle. A glass actually slowed him down a lot.

"Laura is upset," Ororo informed her husband.

Logan poured some whiskey into the glass. He didn't reply.

Ororo tried again. "I told her that you really did not intend to dig a dungeon and lock her away until she was thirty-five. However, she should probably hear that from you as well."

Logan glared at Ororo. "I start digging tomorrow. Do we have enough money in the bank for five hundred bags of concrete? And twenty-five bundles of rebar?"

Ororo sat next to her husband. Then she performed a task that some people considered roughly akin to trying to brush the teeth of a Great White Shark and took the bottle away from Logan.

"She read about sex in a book in the school library," Ororo said as she downed a generous slug of whiskey.

"I hate the twenty-first century," Logan said mournfully.

"I know. But it is better that Laura already knows the important details."

"Yeah. You're right. And I suppose I should have a talk with Daken. Or did he read the same book that Laura read?"

Ororo smiled. "I do not know. Although in Daken's case he probably already has some insight based on the Internet. Many of his friends in town have web connections at home."

Logan winced. "Porn is even worse than Hollywood for giving people the wrong idea about reality. I'll talk to him."

"Well... the Internet is not all bad," Ororo said thoughtfully.

Logan frowned for a moment. Then his face suddenly cleared. "You're thinking about that hotel room we stayed in after that job in San Diego? The one with the really good WiFi connection?"

"And we found that website..." Ororo continued teasingly.

"Click with the mouse-thing and it would show you a random sexual position," Logan remembered fondly. "Yeah. That was okay."

"Okay? We didn't leave the room for two days," Ororo laughed.

"Too bad we never got that last one to work," Logan added. "You know... the one where we needed a hammock?"

Ororo sighed. "In retrospect, trying to rig a blanket as a hammock was a bad idea. I was almost knocked out when it collapsed. And we tore those big holes in the walls. I still think the hotel overcharged us for the repairs."

Logan grinned and hopped out of the truck. It was difficult for him to get drunk and just as difficult for him to stay drunk. "I'll calm Laura down. Then Dak and I can talk about a few things."

* * *

><p>"How did it go?" Logan asked. It was the following day and they were driving back from school.<p>

"We sat together at lunch," Daken said. "She taught me some Spanish. I taught her some Japanese. It was... cool."

"And he didn't do anything too dorky this time," Laura contributed immediately. "Except for the part where he almost poked himself in the eye with his fork."

Daken gave his sister a long, level look. Then he turned back to his father and asked, "The dungeon is definitely out?"

Logan nodded.

* * *

><p>A few days later, Ororo picked up the mail in town. There was a package addressed to her.<p>

Deep in the forest, about a mile from the cabin, there was a particularly lovely spot right next to a small waterfall and a natural pool. And it had just occurred to Ororo that there were two strong, straight trees next to the pool that were just the right distance apart...

Ororo opened the package.

It contained a hammock.


	7. Chapter 7

THE DEEDS OF A KING

_Years ago..._

"We found her," Rogue said quietly. She was obviously exhausted and dried blood was crusted on the side of her face and down along one arm.

Magneto stepped closer and looked into the bundle that Rogue was carrying. A pair of bright green eyes peered up at Magneto - apparently not frightened of the grim, helmeted face gazing down at her.

"Where are Logan and Ororo?" Magneto asked.

Rogue made a small gesture with the child in her arms. "I figure they're fighting like hell. The last I saw, they were leading those Weapon-X bastards on a merry chase all over Canada. Peter's with them. Kurt's back at the mansion with a bullet-hole in his leg. I need to go back and help."

Magneto shrugged, "And what do you want from me, Rogue? I told Logan about the latest incarnation of Weapon-X. I disrupted their sensor network so you could get inside their facility. My part in this is done. Actually, I'm not even sure why I bothered to help."

"Sorry, Eric, but you're not quite done yet," Rogue said - anger creeping into her voice. "We need time. Time to finish off Weapon-X once and for all and make sure that this little girl is safe. So you have to hide her until then."

"Marie... are you giving me an order?" Magneto replied mildly. His gray eyes were hard to see, buried as they were in his helmet, but they were definitely amused.

"Actually, sugar, I'm begging. Want to see me get on my knees?"

Magneto hesitated. Laura reached out of her blanket, curiously trying to grasp the intriguingly strange man who was just beyond her reach.

"You've always wanted to be a king," Rogue said, her voice deadly serious, "but if you want to be king, that means you sometimes have to do deeds that are worthy of a king."

* * *

><p><em>Now...<em>

The local diner did double-duty as an ice-cream shop. And whenever he happened to visit, Erik liked to take the kids there. Daken was a huge fan of the banana split. Laura preferred the strawberry sundae.

"Here you go, Mr. Lehnsherr," Ellie said as she put the roast beef special in front of Erik.

"Thank you, Ellie," Erik said. Nobody had been more surprised than Erik when he eventually realized that the food in this rather unprepossessing and deeply provincial establishment was actually quite good. He usually had the special whenever he was in town. He was yet to be disappointed.

Ellie nodded and tucked a stray blonde hair behind her ear as she topped off Erik's coffee cup. Truthfully, she was a bit charmed by Mr. Lehnsherr. He had a certain old-fashioned dignity that reminded Ellie of her long-departed grandfather.

Daken was done with his banana split. Laura - a daintier eater - was still working on her sundae.

"So what will happen to her when you take over?" Daken asked curiously.

Erik blinked in surprise. "Pardon me, Daken?"

"When you take over," Daken repeated. "What happens to Ellie and people like her?"

Erik smiled into his coffee cup. "Conquest is no longer on my agenda, Daken."

"But it once was," Laura piped up. She had a smear of strawberry syrup on her chin.

Erik used a napkin to wipe Laura's face clean. She scrunched up her face at the indignity, but actually didn't mind.

"If I had 'taken over' as you put it, then Ellie's life would have remained very much the same," Erik said as he put down the napkin and picked up his fork.

"So she wouldn't live out her life as a servant or a concubine?" Laura asked.

Erik cocked an eyebrow at Laura.

"She got her hands on some comics," Daken explained wearily. "And don't ask if she knows what a concubine really is. She does."

Erik sighed and tried the roast beef. As expected, it was quite good.

"No such thing would have been tolerated under my rule, Laura. However, I would have insisted that single mothers like Ellie go to school and either get a sensible degree or sufficient vocational training so that they would be better able to support themselves and their children. And the men who abandoned pregnant women would have found themselves regretting that decision."

The kids thought that over.

"So... no gladiatorial games?" Daken asked thoughtfully - and perhaps regretfully. "Where people would fight to the death?"

Erik's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Exactly what do they say in those comicbooks?"

"All sorts of dumb things," Laura responded as she finally finished off her sundae. "Like... there would have been camps. Camps where it would be decided who lived and who died."

Erik's fork clattered to the table.

"Mr. Lehnsherr?" Daken asked urgently as he reached over and yanked on the cuff of Erik's jacket.

"Grampa?" Laura said as she leaned forward, her eyes wide and frightened.

Ellie saw what was happening and took a few urgent steps in their direction. That was how her grandfather had passed. One moment talking normally and then...

Erik suddenly took Daken's hand. Then he reached over and touched Laura's cheek. She immediately grabbed his wrist with both of her hands and held on tight. There were tears in her eyes.

"Sorry," Erik softly reassured the children. Then he glanced at Ellie and said, "I'm fine, Ellie. I just became lost in thought."

Ellie nodded and slowly backed away, but she was obviously still worried.

* * *

><p>The kids were playing in the park. And Erik Lehnsherr was vastly amused to be having coffee with a woman who had once been considered a goddess, but who was now wearing worn-out jeans, a flannel shirt, and a pair of ranch boots.<p>

"Logan is influencing how you dress," he chuckled. "I'm not sure I approve."

"This is what the local people wear," Ororo pointed out. "It is best if I fit in as much as possible. And besides, it is quite comfortable."

Erik smiled as memories of desperate and ferocious battles, filled with hot white lightning and gleaming claws, flickered through his mind. Sometimes, it had been a coin-toss which one of those two particular opponents had been the most savagely uncompromising foe.

"I'm curious, have the children been given IQ tests?" Erik asked suddenly.

"No, but the school has done estimates based on academic performance. Daken has a 115 - about the same as Logan. Laura is off the charts."

Erik considered that. "The other half of the DNA that Laura was created from - it was from a human project scientist..."

Ororo nodded. "Dr. Sarah Kinney - who had a measured IQ well over 200."

"Hybrid vigor," Erik said slowly.

"The thought has occurred to me as well," Ororo responded. "Perhaps the future does not belong to Homo sapiens or Homo superior. Perhaps it belongs to a combination of the two."

"Once, I would have called that heresy," Erik mused.

"We probably would have had a fight over that," Ororo said dryly.

"Times have changed," Erik shrugged.

"Perhaps you have changed," Ororo suggested.

Erik smiled bitterly. "I am a failed conqueror and - even worse - a failed father. Any change is inevitably for the better."

"You fought when nobody else would fight," Ororo pointed out softly. "In the early days, you fought for a cause only a few understood. You bought us all time."

"Perhaps, but those days are gone. My time has passed."

Ororo shook her head. "Erik, just a few years ago you helped us rescue Laura. You found out about her and told us. You helped us get inside that Weapon-X facility. You kept Laura hidden until she was old enough to stay with us. Without any of that.."

Ororo let the rest of her words hang.

Erik sipped his coffee. "Rogue would say those were deeds worthy of a king."

"She would be right."

Erik looked into Ororo's eyes. "I've never asked you this before, Ororo. But if I had won, would you have served me?"

Ororo smiled. "I think I would have been with my husband."

Erik smiled back. "I'll accept that as a polite 'no'."

* * *

><p>Ororo and the kids had gone to the tiny municipal library. For Daken, that was akin to Purgatory, but they had to pick up the pile of books that Laura had ordered through interlibrary loan. For the moment, Erik was on his own. However, there was somebody else he had to talk to.<p>

There was a fairly basic rule about Erik and Logan: they almost never talked. The things they had done to each other over the years were too much. The memories were too bad. The feelings were too harsh.

And besides, they were both a pair of stubborn bastards.

The two of them had come to a truce that was named 'Laura'. Aside from that, there was almost nothing else between Erik and Logan.

Almost nothing.

Erik marched into Logan's office and nodded a stiff greeting.

Logan just stared at Erik as he began calculating all of the steps necessary to eliminate Erik Lehnsherr once and for all. He couldn't help himself. He automatically did it every time he saw Erik.

"A man named Joseph Curwin died two days ago," Erik said without preamble.

Logan cocked his head at Erik, but said nothing. His eyes remained hard.

"In 1945, Mr. Curwin was a Sergeant in the United States Army. He was assigned to the Sixth Armored Division. He rode in one of the lead tanks that liberated Buchenwald."

Logan seemed to untense slightly.

"Sergeant Curwin died without family. He was apparently a bit of a loner and after the war he became a lifelong alcoholic. He will be buried in Billings tomorrow morning. They can't seem to find anyone to attend his funeral."

Logan nodded and got to his feet.

"I'll meet you there," he said.

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, Logan and Brad walked into the diner. It was lunchtime.<p>

Ellie was obviously very happy about something. There was a cluster of people around her and it looked like a small celebration. Everyone was talking at once to Ellie and she wasn't getting much work done.

Charlie Wash - the diner's owner - rolled his eyes as handed them a pair of menus.

"I'll get to you guys in a minute," he promised, but it was obvious that things were stacking up in the diner.

"What's going on?" Brad asked.

Wash shrugged. "Some outfit called the Magda Maximoff Foundation called Ellie this morning. She has a full-ride scholarship at the community college. There's even something in it to pay for her boy's daycare."

Logan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Brad was shaking his head as they sat down. "I've never heard of the Maxi-whatever foundation, but that was a great thing to do for Ellie."

Logan looked up from the menu, thinking about something a friend had once told him.

"Yep," Logan said. "You might even say that it was a deed worthy of a king."


	8. Chapter 8

THE BABYSITTERS

The island was a tiny and isolated atoll located well northeast of Hawaii. Thanks to a lack of fresh water and arable land, it had never been settled. Even during World War II, when island bases were vital, it was ignored.

However, what the island lacked in strategic value, it more than made up for with beautiful beaches. Daken and Laura took one look at them and fell in love. As soon as the Blackbird's passenger ramp lowered, they dashed out of the aircraft and straight towards the surf, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind.

Without being asked, Lockheed unwrapped himself from around Kitty's shoulders and took to the air.

"Swimsuits!" Kitty yelled as she tossed a pair of trunks and a one-piece suit skyward. Lockheed snagged them in midair and then arrowed after Daken and Laura.

The kids were buck-naked by the time Lockheed dropped the suits at their feet. Daken scrambled into his and then ran into the surf with a whoop. Laura rolled her eyes and put hers on with the air of someone being dutifully tolerant of silly demands.

Kitty grinned at Kurt and shook her head. "They're a handful."

Kurt was hauling a cooler down the ramp. "That's why we are giving Logan and Ororo the weekend off. They need some time to themselves."

* * *

><p>Kitty and Kurt quickly set up camp.<p>

The kids, as agile and energetic as otters, were dashing in and out in the water. Lockheed orbited overhead, keeping an eye on them. Occasionally, he would swoop down to buzz Daken and Laura. They would respond by splashing water up at him.

All three of them were obviously having a ball.

Back on shore, Kitty was ensconced in a folding chair, shaded by a wide beach umbrella, with a paperback book in hand. She was wearing a tiny black bikini, an oversized pair of sunglasses, a liberal coat of sunscreen, and a ballcap emblazoned with the legend "Mother of Dragons". Kurt was nearby, fiddling with a portable grill. The color scheme of his swim trunks was a breath-taking ode to garishness as a fashion statement.

The Blackbird loomed darkly in the background, carefully parked between the jungle and the beach. Even it somehow managed to look relaxed.

"Is Laura still wearing her bathing suit?" Kitty suddenly asked as she peered in the direction of the kids.

Kurt stood up to get a better view and nodded. "Ja. Really, kitten, if Laura wishes to run around without any clothes, there is no harm to it. Not way out here."

Kitty gave Kurt a stern look, "I'm not telling Ororo that we encouraged Laura's skinny-dipping instincts."

Kurt laughed. "As if Ororo has any right to complain. When we first joined the X-Men, she thought the mansion's pool was clothing optional. She almost gave the Professor a heart-attack."

* * *

><p>Lockheed circled around and lost altitude. Skimming just a few feet above the water, and carefully upwind from Daken and Laura, he glided silently towards his prey.<p>

Lockheed's race were predators and warriors. Culturally, they were firm believers in educational play that imparted vital life lessons.

As Lockheed had watched his two charges, he noticed a problem. Both were too used to the idea that their excellent senses would give them more than ample warning of impending trouble. They didn't realize that they were in an environment - the water - where they had lost some of that edge.

Also, Laura was a bit too easily distracted. And Daken tended to keep an eye on his sister to the detriment of maintaining full local awareness.

It was time to teach the nestlings a lesson about watching their backs.

The plan was to glide in, snag Laura by the back of her swimsuit, haul her a few feet in the air, and then give her a playful toss. That would get everyone's attention, but would certainly not hurt anyone of Logan's bloodline. It shouldn't even give Laura much of a scare. After all, Ororo routinely took her children for flights. The windrider's daughter would have no particular fear of heights.

The plan was going just fine until Lockheed noticed a large and dark shadow in the water.

Lockheed's eyes narrowed. The shadow seemed to drifting towards the nestlings.

Then a fin broached the surface.

Bother.

* * *

><p>"Where are they?" Kurt asked suddenly, putting a hand above his eyes to shade the sun. He couldn't see anybody out on the water. A second ago, there had been some pretty wild splashing...<p>

That was the last thing Kitty wanted to hear. She immediately jumped to her feet. After a quick scan offshore, she began sprinting towards the water.

Kurt teleported well ahead of Kitty and landed ankle-deep in water.

A dozen yards offshore, Laura, Daken and Lockheed suddenly popped to the surface. Lockheed was piggy-backed on Daken's shoulders. Daken had a firm hold of Laura's arm.

Lockheed did a quick look-around, his long-necked head writhing around in a full circle - and then back again - as soon as they surfaced.

"Are you all right?" Kitty asked anxiously as everyone clambered out of the water. Lockheed launched himself from Daken's shoulders and landed on the wet sand. He immediately shook himself free of water - and then blew out a gust of flame that super-heated the air around him. That finished drying him off. Lockheed didn't dislike water, but he also wasn't a fan.

"We're fine," Laura said quickly.

Daken hesitated and glanced at his sister. In Daken's experience, adults had a habit of getting upset about things that really didn't matter. And they certainly didn't want to scare Aunt Kitty and Uncle Kurt. After all, they might decide that they should all go back home.

"We went swimming underwater," Daken said carefully. Which was, as far as it went, a completely true statement.

"And I scraped my swimsuit on something," Laura added immediately. Which was also essentially true. Laura was examining a long cut along the side of her suit.

Kitty crouched and examined the damage. Some fabric was gone, but the suit was essentially still intact. It looked like Laura had brushed up against something rough. Laura showed no sign of injury. Which was no surprise since, if anything, she healed even faster than her father and brother.

But still...

"Is it lunchtime yet?" Daken asked suddenly.

"Yeah!" Laura immediately pitched in. "I'm really hungry!"

The concerned look on Kurt's face suddenly shifted gears. Daken and Laura were both voracious eaters. They had brought plenty of hamburgers and bratwurst, but somebody had to start cooking.

"Help me get lunch ready," Kurt said as he started back to camp. Daken and Laura eagerly crowded after him, each grabbing him by a hand. Laura immediately began telling Kurt an excited - and distracting - story about her gymnastics class.

Kurt smiled to himself. He wasn't a sucker, and he knew the wide-eyed-innocent look when he saw it. But the kids were fine and sometimes it was wiser to not demand every detail. It was an attitude that a boy growing up in a circus learned to cultivate.

Still crouched down, Kitty reached over and used a thumbnail to rub the scales right above Lockheed's eyes. He loved to be scratched there.

"Anything you want to tell me?" Kitty asked suspiciously.

Lockheed looked Kitty in the eyes. Then he rubbed the side of his head against Kitty's hand as he coiled the length of his body around her arm. He was being extra-adorable.

The lesson had gone even better than Lockheed had hoped. Large carnivores were excellent instructional assistants.

As Lockheed settled into Kitty's arms, he reflected on the fact that it had turned out to be a wonderful day.

They really needed to get out more often.

* * *

><p>About a mile from the island, the shark was fleeing as fast as it could manage. Battered, cut, and seared around the edges, it was definitely worse for wear.<p>

A shark doesn't really think - it's mental processes actually consist of highly efficient reflexes that evolution settled into place millions of years ago. But it was dimly aware that it was trailing a cloud of blood. That was a problem and the shark knew that it had to be careful.

After all, it had just learned that there were some really dangerous critters in the local waters.


	9. Chapter 9

DO NOT DISTURB

"Hello, Jean," Betsy said quietly as she handed Jean a clipboard. Then, with a tired sigh, Betsy took off the Cerebro helmet and put it down on its stand.

I was Jean's turn on watch. Her job was to keep an eye out for a any mutant activations or other psychic activity. She was also supposed to check in on anyone who was either on a mission or otherwise away from home.

Jean examined the checklist. There wasn't much going on today. Hank and Rogue were in Texas, investigating a sudden spike of mutant births in the Lubbock area. And Kitty and Kurt were somewhere in the Pacific with Daken and Laura.

Jean raised an eyebrow and then looked at Betsy. "Why do Kitty and Kurt have the kids?"

"A weekend getaway," Betsy replied as she unpinned her long dark hair. Then she ran her hands through her hair, smoothing it out.

Jean put down the clipboard as she tied her own hair back into a ponytail. "So Logan and Ororo are still at home?"

Betsy nodded. "Yes. Kurt and Kitty decided to give them some time to themselves. So they took the children out on an excursion."

That made Jean smile. "That's a good idea. We should do that more often."

* * *

><p>Jean settled into position, donned the Cerebro helmet, and scanned the memory log for recent signs of psychic activity. There was nothing of any importance.<p>

Then Jean checked on Hank and Rogue.

Nothing alarming was happening, but Hank was obviously deep in thought. After a moment of hesitation, Jean decided to see what was going on. Hank distracted easily. It was a good idea to make sure nothing was going wrong while he was concentrating on his work.

_A hotel room strewn with papers. An open laptop on a table. A precarious pile of journals and books on the nightstand. Hank was furiously typing away on the laptop's keyboard._

_Rogue was wrapped up in a fluffy bathrobe, curled up on the bed with a tv-remote in her hand._

_Hank's mind was a whirling maelstrom of... well... science. He had a theory about the multiple mutant births and he was cross-checking it against his mental biblography of important sources. Hank's mind at work was a strangely awesome and beautiful thing to experience - like watching the gears of a massive, yet graceful, clock._

_Rogue, on the other hand, was fresh out of the shower, bored out of her mind, and watching a soap opera. Oh, and she was also hungry and thinking about barbeque._

_As Jean "watched", Rogue reached over the side of the bed and grabbed her bra from the floor. Then, with a wicked grin, she gave it an underhand toss in Hank's direction. It landed boobs up on top of Hank's head._

_Without breaking concentration, Hank flicked his head and the bra fell to the floor._

Rogue was laughing and Jean had a grin on her face as she cut the connection.

* * *

><p>Next up was the Pacific picnic.<p>

_Water and sky and sand. A hot beach, that was just beginning to cool as evening approached. Kitty and Kurt were tending the grill. Lockheed was gliding around, enjoying the sea breeze and wondering when the hot dogs would finally be ready. Laura and Daken were happily building a sand-castle as they waited for dinner._

_Laura's thoughts were direct and uncomplicated. Children spend more time in the here-and-now than adults, and they put every ounce of their considerable energy into it. Laura was no exception. In fact, Laura's ability to focus was so strong that it rivaled Hank's._

_Daken, on the other hand, had a mind much like his father's - with two strongly delineated levels. The first level was that of a boy and was concerned with the sort of things any boy might consider important._

_The other level of Daken's mind was constantly watching and testing the world around him. Analyzing distances, vectors, and priorities. Looking for trouble. Looking for threats. He wasn't as good at it as his father, but he was developing steadily._

That had always bothered Jean. Someone as young as Daken shouldn't have something in his head that more closely resembled a Siberian Tiger than a human being. But it was hard to argue with the way Daken's predator-mind was always watching after Laura. Laura had the most dangerously aware big brother on the planet.

When Laura got older, dating was going to be tricky.

Laura could have developed the same way as Daken and Logan, but it hadn't happened. Jean suspected it had to do with Laura's gentler experience as a baby.

Unlike Daken, Laura wasn't there when her mother was murdered.

In any case, both kids were excited and happy to be out with their Aunt Kitty and Uncle Kurt. Even the shark was just a quickly receeding memory.

Jean blinked. Wait... what? A shark?

_A shiny little flicker of a mind 'looked' at Jean. Laura was so incredibly bright and aware. And 'talking' to one of her many telepathic aunts was not even slightly strange to her._

_*HI, AUNT JEAN!* she yelled. Mind-to-mind, the normally reserved Laura was a bundle of loud excitement._

_*Hello, Laura. What's this about a shark?* Jean asked._

_*HE WAS HUNGRY! WE BEAT HIM UP AND HE RAN AWAY!*_

_*Oh. Uhm... are you okay?*_

_*YES! PLEASE DON'T TELL AUNT KITTY AND UNCLE KURT! THEY MIGHT GET SCARED! AND I WANT TO GO SWIMMING AGAIN AFTER DINNER!*_

_*Wait until an hour after dinner,* Jean said sternly._

_*OKAY! CAN YOU COME SWIM WITH US?*_

_And suddenly Jean wanted to do just that._

_*I'm working right now,* Jean said regretfully. *And besides, I'm something like six thousand miles away.*_

_*YOU AND UNCLE SCOTT SHOULD COME WITH US NEXT TIME!*_

_*Next time,* Jean promised._

_*OKAY! BYE!*_

_Jean received a mental impression of a small, but enthusiastic, kiss on the cheek._

_*Goodbye, sweetie,* Jean replied wistfully._

And then Laura was gone, running off to dinner.

* * *

><p>Jean was still smiling to herself when she dropped in on Logan and Ororo. They weren't an active part of the team any longer, but the X-Men still checked on them regularly. Logan and Ororo had done a grimly effective job of letting it be known that they and their children were to be left alone, but it didn't hurt to give them as much backup as possible.<p>

And besides, it was an opportunity to chat with Ororo. Jean didn't see Ororo as often as she once did. They both missed that.

Jean idly wondered what Ororo and Logan were doing now that they finally had some time to themselves.

_They were together, flesh intertwined with flesh. As soon as the kids boarded the Blackbird, Logan and Ororo went straight home and right to bed. But Jean had caught them in a quiet moment, tangled up in each other's arms and dozing peacefully._

_Jean tried to back away and sever the connection, but failed. Together, Logan and Ororo formed an incredibly powerful mental and emotional gestalt. The attraction Jean had always felt for both of them wasn't helping. Even in the afterglow of sex, they were dragging Jean into the whirlpool of their mutual intensity. It was like being caught in a telepathic riptide._

_Ororo immediately recognized Jean. The two of them had communicated via telepathy many times over the years. By now, Ororo knew Jean's mental signature quite well._

_One of Ororo's eyes opened, cat-like and blue. Then the slight curve of a smile appeared on her lips. Ororo could sense Jean's blush._

_Jean was trying to ignore the muscular compactness of Logan's naked body. The warmth of him next to Ororo. His chest hair against her back. The powerful arms curled around her body._

_That wasn't easy._

_*Jean, are you checking out my husband's ass?* Ororo chuckled._

_*Sorry,* Jean said. *I didn't mean to do any such thing, but since I'm here...*_

_*Do not be sorry. It is a fantastic example of its kind. I am proud to call it mine.*_

_*Lucky you. Oh... I just checked on the kids. They're okay. And they might have some interesting stories to tell you when they get home.*_

_*That is good to hear.*_

_Behind Ororo, Logan stirred. He was halfway between asleep and awake, but he was distantly sensing Jean's presence._

_There was a low and rumbling growl as Logan pulled closer to Ororo. A hand cupped one of her breasts. The other slid down the length of her bare thigh. Lips pressed sleepily against the back of Ororo's neck and both Jean and Ororo gasped in response._

_*I... think I better be going,* Jean said hurriedly._

_*Say hello to Scott!* Ororo laughed as she helped Jean break the connection._

With a sudden psychic jerk, Jean slammed back into the reality of the Cerebro chamber.

She was still blushing like a schoolgirl.

On the clipboard, Jean jotted down an entry for Logan and Ororo. Next to it, she wrote, "Do Not Disturb."


End file.
